


Worship

by N_Scribe



Series: Of all the Little Moments (Collection of Hollirey Drabbles) [10]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Hollirey, M/M, This is explicit so read at your own discretion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Scribe/pseuds/N_Scribe
Summary: Bobo Del Rey decides to wear something for Doc's pleasure and it devolves into something far more intimate than either of them expect.
Relationships: Doc Holliday/Bobo Del Rey | Robert Svane
Series: Of all the Little Moments (Collection of Hollirey Drabbles) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701409
Kudos: 1





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 
> 
> Author's Note: This was supposed to just a quick "character wears lingerie for their partner's pleasure" type fic. However, it went completely off the rails and turned into something a friend in a server called "tender filth" by the time all was said and done. And honestly, I'm actually very proud of this so enjoy.

He’d decided against giving any indication of what he was planning mostly because after thirty minutes of typing, deleting, typing again only to delete on his phone told him there was no way he’d go through it if the other knew something was up. As it was, he was pretty sure everyone knew he was feeling some sort of way. Good thing the Revenants in the compound knew better than to either point it out or heaven forbid **ask** him about it.

  
  


Bobo is sort of wondering when he’d lost his mind enough for what he was planning and knew that at anytime he could change said plans. That was also a perfect reason not to warn someone; then you don’t have to cancel and explain yourself.

  
  


Somehow, he makes it through the day without needlessly making someone bleed or having a nervous breakdown (not that he’d ever admit to being close to the second) as well as not changing before he heads out. He knows the Revenants know where he’s going; it’s not a secret between either groups but no one says a thing (mostly because the last person who questioned his activities ended up outside the line for five hours). “Don’t kill anyone who won’t regenerate,” is his parting warning before he heads in the direction of Shorty’s.

  
  


And one John Henry Holliday.

  
  


Except the closer he actually gets the more he can tell it’s nerves and he’s almost turned around four times before forcing himself to park in the parking lot fingers tight around the steering wheel. “God fucking dammit,” he mutters, “This is hardly the most surprising thing I’ve managed to do so why is this so fucking difficult?” Deep down, he knows why. It’s a sort of vulnerability that tended to get him hurt by others. “Guess here’s the point of no return, huh? Let’s see how in you really are, John Henry Holliday.”

  
  


He could survive losing the man. He could. Because it wasn’t anything close to being love. It wasn’t. It **was not**.

  
  


It still takes ten minutes before he steps out of the car and heads for the door before managing his familiar swagger inside. “Evenin’, Waverly,” he greets watching her freeze behind the counter like a deer in the headlights before calming by increments.

  
  


“Bobo,” she says before managing a small smile (a hard won victory for him) and adding, “I’ll go and get Doc.”

  
  


“Take your time, I’m in no rush,” he answers simply as he takes a seat at the bar ignoring the way the material shifts and rubs as he makes himself comfortable. This was not something he was used to; what lay hidden beneath the tight jeans and he was really and truly beginning to wonder if he should just slip back out and leave citing some emergency before the other got into the main room because…

  
  


“Well, look who it is. They were startin’ to take bets on whether or not you were actually coming in.” Doc’s voice is light and teasing but he still feels his tension coil tightly.

  
  


“Long day,” he manages, “Was debating not giving them the pleasure of my company and then decided that it would be a shame to deprive them of it.”

  
  


“Just them, huh?”

  
  


Bobo finds himself slowly relaxing into their easy banter. “Why, John Henry, is that you admitting that you might actually like my company?”

  
  


The male makes himself comfortable on the stool beside him before reaching and pulling him towards him without preamble. The feel of his lips against his has Bobo groaning low in his throat at how easy the other male makes it seem to just touch him in public or at all actually but that was insecurity rearing its ugly head and he tries to push it away as he leans forward to deepen it letting himself reach and grip the other’s arm.

  
  


Breaking it, he finds himself watching the other’s eyes fill with heat like the promise of a coming storm. Bobo knew how it was that most everyone got trapped by this one’s gaze. He wants to say something but the male reaches out to lightly brush his fingers along his jaw and he finds himself chasing the contact leaning into the touch.

  
  


He’s quite a bit distracted by the gentle, soft touches so he nearly misses when in the midst of leaning to kiss at the corner of his mouth a finger undoes the button on his pants and slips in.

  
  


He feels Doc freeze immediately and tries to keep his fear to a minimum. “Are you…” The finger shifts slightly making Bobo fail to keep from squirming slightly and pray no one was seeing this but the breathed, “You **are** ” has his full attention.

  
  


“Y-yes?” It comes out as a question loaded with too many ways this could go wrong. And he feels the other withdraw panic starting to take hold. “Henry…”

  
  


His face is cupped and he’s pulled back into a kiss; just as gentle and sweet that has his toes nearly curling. It was this soft sweetness that tended to leave him breathless and strangely pliant for the other to do with as he would and Bobo was strangely addicted to the way it felt. “Let’s take this somewhere more private,” he murmurs as he rises and extends a hand eyes holding heat and wicked intent.

  
  


He’s almost embarrassed by how quickly he takes the offered hand and lets him tug him for the stairs. Being brought into the other’s room is nothing knew; but there was something heavy in the air as Doc shuts the door and locks it before turning towards him. “You are wearing lace?”

  
  


He feels the heat spreading along his skin. “Yes,” comes the reply and he struggles to keep the sharpness out of his tone mostly from how much he was regretting this if the other disapproved, “Look, it won’t happen again I just…” He’s pulled forward again and kissed before he can get through whatever the rest of the defense would be.

  
  


And it’s while he’s kissing him that Doc maneuvers him in the direction of the bed and releases before giving a shove that sends him sprawling more out of surprise than anything. “John Henry…”

  
  


“Quiet,” the other commands as he moves so that he’s straddling over top of him, “I want to see what you’ve deigned to wear for my viewing pleasure.” There is something warm in his tone, almost hungry that has Bobo slowly letting himself relax against the mattress.

  
  


Doc shifts back before tugging him up enough to divest him of his coat and shirt beneath it letting his fingers run down his chest and abdomen taking his time to undress him, almost unwrapping him. He crouches down and removes his shoes and socks letting his fingers brush along the arch grinning at the sharp intake of breath and the warned, “John Henry…”

  
  


“I do love how you growl my name,” he murmurs before shifting up and lightly drawing the zipper down before shifting it open to reveal light blue lace stretched over his skin. “Well, now this is a surprise. His fingers lightly brush over the material and Bobo’s head lolls back as his breathing sharpens. “Definitely like that, too.” He tugs the material down before tugging him up so he can get the pants down and off before he lets his gaze fully take him in standing in nothing but the lace underwear.

  
  


Bobo has never felt like he’s on display in such a way before and he watches the male take him in slowly, leisurely before gazing back up at him, eyes tumultuous now more than before. “Somethin’ like this begs to have time taken since you did make yourself so very _pretty_ for me, Robert.”

  
  


There was a time he would have snapped at the man for daring to call him that but that was before he’d learned to crave the way it rolled off the other’s tongue especially in that low, husky tone. That mixed with the compliment has him very willing to let the man do what he wanted. Any and everything the man wanted.

  
  


It was dangerous and he knew better but he wants it more than he wants to argue or worry so he merely lets himself get comfortable on the bed splayed out before beckoning him towards him. And that would be all it would take for Doc to rejoin him, his knees on either side of him as he leans and presses another hot kiss to his mouth. It is brief, almost too brief but it’s made tolerable when the dark haired male moves down kissing lightly at his jaw and tracing his lips and tongue over his throat which is bared willingly for the other. His breathing hitches when the male’s mouth finds all the spots he knows to be sensitive and he lavishes slow attention; the soft brush of lips, the light nip of teeth, and the soothing moist heat of his tongue and mouth map him out slowly, lazily. He takes special care and time on his nipples until Bobo is squirming and whining and he can feel the bastard’s smirk against his skin as he continues playing him, winding him up.

  
  


And then he’d move lower; abdomen and stomach getting the same treatment; leaving reddened marks that would most likely fade by the morning before he ends up kneeling between the other’s spread thighs and he gazes down at him, lips curving. “Beautiful,” he breathes softly, “You, Robert, are more beautiful than a man has the right to be.” His fingers lightly brush over the thin fabric stretched taut over his straining cock. His lips curve, “You should don such things more often as they look incredible on you.”

  
  


He swallows thickly. “W-wasn’t sure you’d approve…”

  
  


Doc’s eyes meet his and his grin widens. “Oh, Robert,” he murmurs huskily before bringing one of the man’s hands to his pants and pressing the palm there, “Oh, I approve most emphatically. You are stunnin’. Hell, the next time you should wear a pair and just your coat.”

  
  


Color dusts more across his skin before he manages, “A-as much as the ego stroking is nice...could you, maybe, you know, stroke something else?”

  
  


“You always were so impatient. Some things deserve time to be taken. And some people deserve to be savored.”

  
  


“Henry…”

  
  


“Robert,” he murmurs as he reaches to allow himself to at least remove his pants and boots this time before he rejoins him on the bed letting his body press down so he can rock his hips slowly making the other groan and arch to meet him. “Mm, like that. Such a beautiful, needy thing you are tonight. I approve,” he breathes before nipping at the male’s neck and continues, “So just trust yourself to me and let me show you what you’re truly worth.”

  
  


Months ago, Bobo Del Rey would have known better than to allow it; a life of lessons to never let another man have him vulnerable or open. But that was months ago and somehow this unrepentant bastard had managed to undo decades of his own walls with little more than a smile and the way he treated him. Maybe it was desperation or the need for contact...or maybe there was enough left of Robert Svane to be still ridiculously romantic…Whatever it was, he chooses to jump head-first off the ledge and hope for the best. If he was wrong it wouldn’t be the first time he’d plunged to his emotional death and he’d probably survive it. Probably.

  
  


Forcefully telling the fear that it had nothing to do with this man or this place, he manages a quiet, “I think that you are overstating my value here, John Henry.”

  
  


“No,” comes the firm response as the other brings his fingers along his face again, “I am surely not, Robert. You are worthy of so much; friends, family, a home, even love.”

  
  


“And you?” He cannot believe he asks this because it was so stupid, so desperate sounding, too honest, too presumptuous, too...

  
  


“If you want me, Robert, you have me. I’m all in when it comes to you and I will not fold no matter how bad it gets.”

  
  


He has to close his eyes a moment at that. The words are balm for some of the more broken pieces in him. He takes a slow, deep breath before opening them hoping that there wasn’t too much showing even though he’s sure that’s a useless want at this point. “I...do...want...that.” You, was the correct albeit unspoken word. But he can see in the softened smile and the way the other leans to press his forehead against his that he hears and understands the truth of the statement.

  
  


“Mine,” comes the quiet claiming he so desperately needed, “You, Bobo Del Rey, you Robert Svane, are **mine**. And I am a possessive and territorial man.”


	2. Part Two

Bobo wants to protect himself with some snarky remark about him getting to possessing said territory but that could come later. For the moment he merely brings his arm up to loop it around Doc’s shoulders and shift slightly so that he can kiss him and ignore the fact that his eyes were hot and wet because there might be tears. Actual tears.

  
  


Of course John Henry breaks the kiss too soon for his liking and lightly brushes his thumbs along the damp skin. “You deserve the world.”

  
  


“D-don’t say such things or we’re not getting very far tonight.”

  
  


“We have the time, Robert. We have all the time it takes for me to prove you deserve good things. The very best things.”

  
  


“Henry…”

  
  


“Robert,” he murmurs softly letting his hand slide between them to brush over the thin fabric making him squirm and breathe sharply, “You will believe me one of these days.”

  
  


“F-fuck...c-could we just...a-ahh...o-ohh...do-do **that** ,” comes the groaned out plea as he applies more pressure to his groin. It has Doc chuckling gently as he curls his fingers as best he can and stroke slowly making him rock and his arms tighten as he presses his face in the crook of his neck as he pants and moans against his skin.

  
  


“Such a lovely reaction, darlin’. I do so love how you respond to me.”

  
  


He wants to get more demanding and less pliant but there is something about the affectionate praise he gets when he lets the other go at his leisure that Bobo is far more addicted to and so just closes his eyes and rests back against the bed beneath him. He’d offered himself up for this anyway.

  
  


And John Henry Holliday, much to his immense surprise, had yet to disappoint him so he’s very sure the man will make it worth his while to just let him take his time. And maybe he could let himself have this without protest; let himself be savored in this way without making too much of it. Without wondering too much about what it might cost him in the future.

  
  


He wasn’t Wyatt Earp.

  
  


Thankfully, his wandering thoughts are corralled very quickly when Doc’s next move is to slide his fingers under the very edge of the lace and brush against hot skin that has him jerking as pleasure jolts down his nerves and a sharp, ragged sound escaping followed by a choked, “Please, fuck... **please** …touch me...”

  
  


“Oh, I have every intention of doin’ just that,” comes the reply, “Trust that above all else; that I have every intention of making you know that every bit and every part of you is mine, Robert Svane. No one else’s. No one else gets a chance at what’s left of you because it belongs to me and I will guard it most fiercely. And guard **you** as well.”

  
  


He wants to tell him not to say things like that because it was ridiculously sentimental at best and a lie at worst but he can’t speak through the fact that his goddamn throat is tight with everything he’s feeling at the moment, everything this man makes him feel and more than that; makes him **want** from him. “Henry…” The word comes out in a mix of warning and plea and he cannot rightfully figure out which or what it was currently asking for because it was all he could manage to force out.

  
And John Henry Holliday, damn the man, smiles that goddamn soft, tender smile that broke every wall and failsafe he’d tried to make so that he was never in his life foolish enough to let some fool man mean something to him like this with all the force of dynamite before murmuring “I’ve got ya, darlin,’” as he finally draws the lace off of him leaving him bare against the bed.

  
His breathing sharpens and he lets himself splay for the other’s view. It wasn’t like Doc hadn’t had him naked before but there was something about how he felt tonight of all nights that made it more intimate in some ways that he felt more exposed and vulnerable. But even though he’s not sure he likes the way it makes him feel; the way Doc’s eyes drink him in and the sheer approval in those dark blue eyes is more than worth it.

  
  


“You have seen me naked before,” he finally gets out something untensing at the way the other just gazes over him.

  
  


“Yes,” comes the easy agreement, “It’s one of my particularly favorite activities as it were; staring at the sheer expanse of you.”

  
  


“I would much prefer if you touched more and looked less.”

  
  


Doc chuckles at that. “Oh, I am sure you do. But as I said; there are things and people who are best savored. This and you are definitely in that category, Robert Svane.”

  
  


He lets his eyes close at that and slides his arms behind his head in a silent show of surrender. Bobo had always preferred sex to be fast and somewhat rough; less emotions more baser needs. Doc had learned that it was because gentle, loving, and intimate affairs tended to leave him open and terribly raw.

  
  


Hence this entire situation, he supposes. Doc could always read what he needed to hear, to have done to him better than anyone he’d met. If there was a talent here; it was that John Henry Holliday could read someone too goddamn well. And what was more was that he clearly likes finding all the secrets he still held like it was some great discovery. And honestly, it reminded him that he was still very much Robert. And he still very much wanted to be important to someone. In fact, he wanted to be important to **this** man above all else. So if fate or whatever celestial asshole was out there making a mess of things for no damn reason could just give him this small favor, this tiny thing: it would be to keep John Henry Holliday.

  
  


It could not be too much to ask at this point.

  
  


The bed dips as Henry rejoins him making himself comfortable between his spread thighs. His fingers lightly brush over the length of him, lips curving into a look of satisfaction as he squirms and arches wanting more friction, more of something against hot skin. “F-fuck...c’mon...would you do more than that?”

  
  


There is that moment when he knows his partner could continue; John Henry made teasing a man a sport and was very, very good at it. However, he sees the moment the other knows now is clearly not the time to do that and his fingers tighten just enough to have him arching as a groan slips past his lips. It’s halting almost rumbling as want is very much getting the better of him though he’ quite displeased when his partner’s next move is to withdraw the hand completely. Light blue eyes, more gray than blue, blink at him and he goes to make something of a demand of the other when he watches him shift so that he can settle himself between his thighs, Bobo’s legs resting over his shoulders. His lips part as he’s very much not sure what the other thinks he’s doing and his thoughts come to a screeching halt when he feels the male’s lips against his skin again. It’s an almost embarrassingly squawking breath that escapes him as he tries to wrap his mind around what Doc’s actual actions are.

  
  


He’s pretty sure he’s told him, numerous times, something along the lines of “kiss my ass” but he’d never actually taken a moment to wonder how that would go in a literal sense. “He-Henry,” he struggles to get out, “Henry, wh-what the fuck are you…” The tip of his tongue flicks out and his head nearly snaps back at the fleeting of it pressing against the rim of his ass. That’s what he was doing. His breathing staccatos sharply and his fingers grip the sheets as he tries to decide if this was way too much or just right and he watches blue eyes glint mischievously before the other presses his tongue in deep and has his back arching as a sound escapes too close to a wail for his own liking and he presses his palm over his mouth because there was no way he was trying to explain that sort of noise to anyone who might hear it. The chuckle against his skin doesn’t make him feel any better about the situation though the fact that his hips shift towards the bastard instead of away gives him up for enjoying it. Warm fingers cup his hips as he presses closer, licking at him deeply.

  
  


Bobo soon finds himself unable to get a good rhythm as Doc alternates from deep satisfying presses of his tongue to light, teasing licks at the clamping opening and it’s as maddening as it is pleasurable. Finally, he rescinds his hold on the sheets with one hand and brings it into the male’s dark hair. “F-fuckin’ eat me out l-like you mean it,” he demands voice more plaintive whine than growl, “F-for fuck’s sake...H-Henry…”

  
  


The other of course has to withdraw enough to murmur, “What part of me savorin’ you makes you think this is gonna be done at your pace, darlin’? If I want to spend the rest of my night eatin’ you out just like this then you’re just going to have to accept that.”

  
  


He wants to argue, protest, or tell him where he could stick his intentions (whatever those may be) but can only choke because at that moment Doc leans before lewdly sucking at his rim and shoving his tongue in deep in a certain direction that has him rocking violently. His fingers tighten in the other’s hair breathing sharp and reedy. Damn this man and all the ways he used to just wreck him.

  
  


That he delighted in finding them was something else for him to think about at some point because he is not used to someone being this giving in pleasure or this interested in what he liked enough to experiment. The next slow lick has him panting and squirming. "H-Henry...f-fuck...please..."

  
  


Of course Doc ignores him clearly enjoying the way he was responding to him. Bobo is sure all it would take is a sharp jerk on his hair to get the other to change his tactics but there is too much of him that wants him to keep doing this: to keep touching him in such an intimate and tender manner so he releases his grip and returns his fingers to gripping the sheets.

  
  


The coiling heat and pressure intensify the more Doc learns where and how to press his tongue, lips, and to lightly drag his teeth and Bobo is taken off guard when an orgasm peaks violently from this alone leaving him momentarily breathless. Doc gives him a satisfied, pleased look murmuring, "Now this is definitely something I need to do to you more often."

  
  


He feels his face flush from the husky tone and slight embarrassment. "W-was that strictly necessary?"

  
  


"Maybe not," comes the easy response before Doc would make a show of drawing his fingers along the spatters of semen decorating Bobo's skin and then licking the digits clean. The Revenant let's his eyes fall closed with a soft groan.

  
  


"Henry..."

  
  


“Robert,” he teases back before his tone would go serious again, “You deserve to be treated to everything a man can enjoy being done to him. Ain't nothing wrong with it.”

  
  


“You do realize…”

  
  


“He,” Doc interrupts knowing just where this was going, “was the selfish sort not particularly concerned about what things any of his bedmates would have wanted nor would he have been willing to change that. I'm not him. Not even close. So I'm going to teach you how a man **should** be to someone important to him.”

  
  


“But what do you get out of it?”

  
  


Doc chuckles softly. “Darlin’, I get to feel you squirm and hear you whine and taste you so deeply that I know I’ll be the only one with that pleasure. Trust that I get a lot out of finding what you enjoy havin’ done to you.”  
  
Bobo is pretty sure he's flushing at the words and tries not to be embarrassed though the fact that he still could be embarrassed is a new one to him. The orgasm has him more pliant and he merely watches as Doc moves to grab a familiar jar and returns to him. Half-lidded eyes watch as he unscrews the cap and dips his fingers inside before settling himself so he can start to slowly open him up.

The familiar pressure and stretch has him groaning low in his throat as he lets his eyes close to enjoy the sensation of being stretched. His breathing sharpens and he arches fucking himself on the male's fingers deeply. “Hnn...fuck...there!” he pants out as Doc's fingers crook stroking his prostate.   
  
  


The process would be slow as Doc makes sure he's more than ready before withdrawing his fingers which Bobo doesn't particular like but as he opens his eyes, he's granted the sight of Doc undressing fully. His tongue flicks between his lips at the sight of all of him. “See somethin' ya like, darlin'?”

“You know it.”

Doc chuckles softly as he climbs atop the bed and lightly spreads his legs wider for him to settle between. “Good to know,” he murmurs voice going husky as he shifts and presses into his heat, “Ahh, **Robert**...”

Fingers interlock with his own, their palms pressed against each other as Doc pistons his hips dragging a ragged sound from between his lips as all the right spots within him are hit. “A-ahh...f-fuck...y-yes...like **that** …”

  
  


Doc’s lips curve upwards clearly pleased with his response though the sharpened breath he takes is just as satisfactory for Bobo himself to hear. “D-Definitely like the way you feel ‘round me, darlin’; hot and tight and **perfect** ,” comes the low approving groan from the other as his blue eyes go half-lidded in pleasure.

  
  


A low, pleased rumble escapes him as he presses his hips up to meet the other’s thrusts delighting in the feeling of being stretched and filled as the heat coils in his lower stomach. He lets his eyes close, inviting the sensations to intensify until it’s all he can focus on; the feel of John Henry laying claim to him.

  
  


The shifts of his partner’s hips go from the mix of slow and gentle and fast and sharp to almost desperate as he feels him shake and knows that the same coiling heat intensifying in him is doing the same in the other. He shifts his hips upwards pressing himself as tightly against the other’s body despite the angle because he wants this; wants to feel him reach his peak.

  
  


There is something so satisfying to Bobo about making him lose that much control. And it is that and more when he feels the male start to shudder and the breathing is harsher, reedy. And it's not long until a sharp exhalation proceeds the feel of him spilling in him, fingers tightening reflexively as he does so. It's enough; the hot spill, the harsh panting and the jerking spasm that has Bobo hitting another orgasm himself. He lets his eyes flutter as he feels the other slip from him and withdraws from the bed. While Bobo dislikes the loss of warmth and closeness, he is sure that it'll be worth it because he does not like the thought of falling asleep sticky as he was no matter how pliant and nearly sleepy he is. So of course, he's not surprised to see Doc with a washcloth as he returns to him.

The cool rag feels amazing against his skin and he gives a low sound of contentment, eyes fluttering. The soft smile isn’t missed before John Henry joins him on the bed at his side, fingers lightly stroking along his stubbled jaw. He nuzzles against the touch content and happy to just be here with this man. “Thank you,” comes the soft murmur, “For showing me this side of you, Robert.”

  
  


Reaching, he brings the others hand close and presses soft kisses along the digits in response with a soft hum reverberating in his throat. It earns a chuckle before John Henry would settle at his side arm curled around him.

  
  


It’s when he knows the other is asleep with his evened breathing and the low snore that he murmurs to the dark, “I should be the one thanking you for taking this so well. For handling **me** so well. I do love you. So much. Don’t you change, John Henry Holliday.”

  
Maybe, one day, he’d tell the man all of this **aloud**.


End file.
